... in the bar. Where am I?
Also, this particular bar in Huntington, West Virginia, has a doorbell you must ring to enter. Georgia, the establishment's only bartender for what I can only imagine must be the past several decades, controls the lock button on the (all but inviting) front door. So obviously Chris dragged me to this payphone-bearing speak-easy twice within the first 48 hours of my residence in WV.
In other news, I seem to be fitting in quite nicely. Ya'll.
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